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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657143">I dim the lights and think about you</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account'>orphan_account</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Knives Out (2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Cunnilingus, F/M, I live for Blanc being soft for Marta okay, Oh to have a Southern gentleman clear you of murder and go down on you to relieve your tension, Post-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:07:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,525</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657143</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As they stared at each other, both breathing rapidly, Marta was struck with the strangeness of the situation they were in. Just a few months ago, this house had belonged to the Thrombeys, and he’d been here to investigate her on suspicion of murder. How had they gotten to this point, she wondered?</p><p>Then his mouth was on her neck and she stopped wondering.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benoit Blanc/Marta Cabrera</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>387</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I dim the lights and think about you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I love Marta and Blanc's dynamic so much... and also I think it'd be hot if he went down on her. Ergo, this fic.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>On the car ride back to 2 Deerborn Drive, Blanc looked over at her and asked, “How are you feeling?”</p><p>Marta looked back at him, feeling very small in his passenger seat. The afternoon’s trial was still weighing heavy on her mind. It had been the exhausting conclusion of two months of legal procedure, ending with Ransom being declared guilty on all charges. Linda, the only Thrombey in attendance, had cried. But Marta had been looking at Ransom. She didn’t think she’d ever forget the way he’d looked over at her from the defendant’s chair as the verdict was being read, eyes cold as ice, a dark shadow over his face.</p><p>“Yeah, I wanted to kill her,” Ransom had said on the stand, without a trace of remorse, the hint of a smirk on his face. “I didn’t, but I wanted to. So what?”</p><p>It had been clear from the way he’d looked at her that he still did. Even looking down the barrel of a lifetime in prison, he was committed to making her life hell.</p><p>“You know I can’t lie to you,” Marta said finally, in lieu of an <em>I’m fine, </em>which she wished she could say without losing her dinner on the windshield. Blanc studied her face for a second longer, brow furrowing slightly, before returning his attention to the road.</p><p>“I’ve always liked that about you, because I cannot be lied to,” he said. “But I won’t press the matter any further.”</p><p>Marta smiled weakly, knowing that he was trying to be comforting, in his own way. “Thank you.”</p><p>In the absence of her mother and sister, who had both gone to stay with some relatives out of state to avoid the press surrounding the trial, Blanc had insisted on driving her to and from the courthouse today. He hadn’t told her why, but Marta knew it was because he’d noticed how rattled she was after the first day. Benoit Blanc noticed a great deal, after all, and he cared, no matter how much he pretended he didn’t. Despite how he prattled on about discarding the biases of the heart whenever he worked a case, she knew that he cared, even if he never said it, and she never asked. That was what she liked best about their friendship. They just understood each other.</p><p>As they got closer to the house, Marta felt a lump beginning to form in her throat. Ransom’s words were still echoing in her mind. The prospect of being alone in that big, empty house, filled to the brim with Harlan’s eccentricities and knick-knacks that she didn’t yet have the heart to dispose of, made her stomach turn. Outside, snow was beginning to fall. Marta absentmindedly touched her hand to the car window, feeling the cold glass beneath her fingertips.</p><p>“Starting to snow,” Blanc remarked.</p><p>“You’re observant as always,” Marta replied, and though she was looking out the window, she could feel the smile that spread across his face.</p><p>They pulled into the driveway in front of the house and Marta took a quiet, shuddering breath. In several years of working there and a few months of living in it, the house had never seemed so ominous. It seemed to loom over her as she pulled her coat tighter around herself. She looked over at Blanc, who flicked on the car light and said nothing, but was looking at her with mild concern in his eyes.</p><p>“Thank you, Mr. Blanc,” she said. She had never wanted less to get out of a car.</p><p>He jerked his head, almost imperceptibly. “Benoit, if you please. You are no longer a murder suspect, and I am no longer investigating you.”</p><p>“Benoit,” Marta corrected herself quietly, unfamiliar with the way his first name felt in her mouth but finding that she liked it. “Goodnight.”</p><p>She moved to open the door, steeling herself to face the empty house that awaited her.</p><p>“Wait, Marta.”</p><p>She looked back, already turning the door handle. There was concern written across Benoit’s entire face now as he parted his lips, clearly searching for the right words to string together.</p><p>“You’re sure you’ll be okay,” he said, “all by yourself tonight?”</p><p>Marta’s breath hitched in her throat. He knew she couldn’t lie to him.</p><p>“No,” she replied. “I’m not.”</p><p>Benoit’s eyes were gleaming in the low light as he regarded her. He’d abandoned all pretense now. He did care, very much.</p><p>“Well, we can’t have that, now,” he said, and his voice was gentle. “What can I do?”</p><p>Marta held his steady gaze, finding that she couldn’t look away. She was always thrown by how sincerely he wanted to help her. She wasn’t used to that sort of thing from people who weren’t her family.</p><p>“You could, um,” she started, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. “Stay close, perhaps? It would make me feel better.”</p><p>Benoit arched an eyebrow. “Stay close?”</p><p>Marta swallowed quietly.</p><p>“There’s space in the house,” she ventured, and Benoit cracked a smile.</p><p>“I’ll say,” he said. “Seems like there’s nothing but space in there.”</p><p>Marta couldn’t help but smile back, huffing out a small laugh. “Seriously, even with my mom and Alice here, so much of it is empty.”</p><p>There was a lull then. Marta knew that he was waiting for her to fill it. Benoit thought of himself as a gentleman, would never want her to feel like he was imposing – so she knew that he would wait for her affirmation before doing anything.</p><p>“Please stay,” she said, and she almost surprised herself with how bold she sounded. “I probably won’t be able to sleep tonight, anyway. It would be nice to have some company.”</p><p>“Well,” Benoit said. “Far be it from me to deny a lady’s request.”</p><p> </p><p>Marta would say this about living in the country house: the water pressure here was much better than the shower in the old apartment had ever been, which defied logic, given how old she was sure the pipes were. She supposed she’d have to get those checked eventually.</p><p>The hot water was a welcome reprieve, especially given the chill outside. Still, the tension in her shoulders hadn’t quite disappeared as she stepped out, shivering a little. She reached out and wiped the fog from the bathroom mirror to see her own face staring back at her. Maybe it was the stress of the trial, but she looked unrecognizable to herself, with a furrow in her brow and worry lines around her eyes. She let out a shaky breath, trying to erase the memory of Ransom’s expression in that courtroom from her mind.</p><p><em>Just like Harlan said,</em> she told herself. <em>Everything will be okay.</em></p><p>She wrapped herself in a robe after getting dressed, flinching a little on instinct at how the stairs creaked when she walked down them. She still wasn’t used to being here alone at night. Every noise felt like a violation.</p><p>She couldn’t help but feel relieved when she emerged into the lounge to find Benoit sitting there on the sofa, looking at something on his phone as the fireplace crackled beside him. For some reason she’d been worried that she might come downstairs and he wouldn’t be there. She should’ve known that he wasn’t the type to go back on his word. He looked up at her when she entered. His suit jacket was draped over the back of one of the armchairs.</p><p>“This house is mighty big for just the three of you,” he said. “Hell, the Thrombeys could barely fill it, and there’s a dozen of ‘em.”</p><p>“I agree,” Marta said, sitting on the sofa beside him. “I’ve been thinking of selling it, but I know the family would never leave me alone if I tried…”</p><p>Her voice trailed off as she looked down at the coffee table to see two mugs of tea set out neatly, with her mother’s old teapot off to the side. She looked back up at Benoit in surprise.</p><p>“Did you do this?”</p><p>“I took the liberty of making some tea while you were in the shower,” Benoit said. “I don’t know how you take it, but I thought a warm drink might be… soothing.”</p><p>If Marta had been anyone else, she would have missed the bashfulness that flickered across his face for a moment. But she knew how to read him, and that bashfulness stirred something in her chest, a strange sort of warmth at being the one to elicit that expression from him, a fondness that she didn’t quite know where to put. He could tell, too, that she’d noticed it, and cleared his throat a little as he sat back, gaze darting away from hers to fixate upon a little wooden elephant statue on the windowsill.</p><p>“You’re always so kind to me,” Marta said. “Why?”</p><p>Benoit looked taken aback by the question, raising his eyebrows.</p><p>“Because kind people deserve kindness in return,” he said, as though the answer was obvious. “And I was there, in the courtroom. Both days. You’re still thinking about what Ransom said, aren’t you? No need to answer,” he added hastily, clearly worried she might try to pretend like she wasn’t.</p><p>Marta exhaled heavily, then nodded, wringing her hands absentmindedly in her lap.</p><p>“I suppose I shouldn’t even ask how you could tell.”</p><p>“You’ve been carrying that tension in your shoulders all day,” Benoit said, gesturing vaguely at her. “The bastard. I don’t suppose the knowledge that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore helps at all.”</p><p>Marta shrugged, staring down at the mug of tea in front of her.</p><p>“I think with the stress of the trial, and my family not being here, and the Thrombeys asking me for things all the time…” She sighed, shaking her head. “I wish I could just forget it all.”</p><p>She looked over at Benoit, who was looking back at her. He was always looking back at her.</p><p>“But I’m glad we got to meet again,” she offered, smiling. “I’ve thanked you before, but it’s never enough. Thank you for what you did for me.”</p><p>“You mean the tea, or the murder investigation?” Benoit asked, his tone light.</p><p>Marta laughed, feeling more at ease in the house than she had in a week. “I’ll let you decide.”</p><p>The tea was hot and pleasantly fragrant as she sipped it, the mug warming her fingers. She could feel Benoit quietly watching her, but it was comfortable, just sitting here with him in the warm glow of the fireplace. She trusted him, she realized, almost as much as she trusted her mother or sister. She wondered when that had happened.</p><p>Marta set the mug down on the coffee table and turned back to him, only to find him leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he regarded her. There was something in his eyes that gave her pause now, made her swallow quietly. A kind of heat, not exactly like the soft warmth that had always been there, but the kind that made her heart flutter.</p><p>“If I may be so presumptuous,” Benoit said, and his voice suddenly sounded different. Lower. Smoother. Had it always sounded that way? “I believe that your general… physical frustration may be the root cause of all this tension.”</p><p>The implication was not lost on her as she broke eye contact, feeling a blush creep to her cheeks. She never quite knew how to talk about it, but it was true. It had been close to five years since she’d been with anyone – her work and taking care of her mother kept her busy, and most of the time, relationships had taken a backseat. She didn’t regret any of it, of course, but now that she had this house, and all this money, and all this free time, it was getting harder to distract herself from some of her more basic needs. Her own fingers weren’t always enough to get her where she needed to go, after all.</p><p>Benoit took the silence as a confirmation. He cleared his throat again.</p><p>“I’d like to do this for you,” he said, sounding as cool as ever, but something in his demeanor had changed. A boundary was about to be crossed, and they both knew it. The only thing that remained to be seen was whether Marta would push him out, or let him stay. “I know you. You like to take care of people so much that you made it your profession. Let me take care of you. Marta.”</p><p>The way he said her name, low and gentle, made her stomach flip. Marta looked up at him, searching his face for any questionable intent, and found none. She made her decision.</p><p>“Okay,” she said, and kissed him.</p><p>His arm was around her waist in an instant. He sighed into the kiss, his lips warm and soft beneath hers. Marta couldn’t help the noise that escaped her throat as he pulled her into his lap, her knees falling into place to bracket his hips and her hands landing on his chest. He reached his other hand up to gently cradle her jaw as she parted her lips for him, stifling a gentle moan as he licked his way into her mouth. He kissed the same way he worked – methodical, practiced, and thoughtful. She could feel the heat that had started in her chest beginning to spread through her whole body, arousal building steadily between her legs.</p><p>Benoit pulled back for a second to look at her face and as they stared at each other, both breathing rapidly, Marta was struck with the strangeness of the situation they were in. Just a few months ago, this house had belonged to the Thrombeys, and he’d been here to investigate her on suspicion of murder. How had they gotten to this point, she wondered?</p><p>Then his mouth was on her neck and she stopped wondering.</p><p>“Benoit,” she breathed out as he kissed his way leisurely down her neck, his breath hot on her bare skin. One of his hands was undoing her robe. She shrugged it off, shivering a little as her arms were exposed to the chilly air. Immediately his hands were there, running up and down her arms, warm and rough and comforting. Benoit Blanc never missed a clue.</p><p>“Benoit,” Marta repeated, feeling light-headed with all the careful attention he was giving her. She could feel the bulge in his pants growing as he slowly planted kisses across the tops of her breasts, his hands moving down to grasp her thighs, but he didn’t make any indication that he needed reciprocation. He just hummed against her skin in response, making her shudder.</p><p>Just when she thought it might be too much, and she was going to go out of her mind if he didn’t start touching her, Benoit lifted his mouth from her throat and took her by the waist. He turned them over until she was sitting on the couch and he was standing between her legs, piercing eyes raking up and down her form until they stopped on her face. Marta could hardly breathe as he looked at her, feeling exposed all of a sudden in the best way.</p><p>“What are you doing?” she asked, and her voice was low, breathy. She would have been embarrassed, if she’d possessed the mental faculties to care.</p><p>Slowly, Benoit sank to his knees, his eyes never leaving hers. Marta swallowed heavily, heart pounding in her chest, as he grasped her hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the couch. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he knelt between her knees, desperate to touch him but knowing that he was determined to make it good for her first, and who was she to come between him and his goal?</p><p>“I did say I’d take care of you,” he said, and leaned up to kiss her softly before reaching down to take off her sweatpants. Marta was suddenly very aware of how unsexy everything she was wearing was, but in her defense, she could never have predicted the night would take this (admittedly very welcome) turn.</p><p>She was left sitting only in her underwear, feeling a little awkward and a little self-conscious. It had been a long time since she’d been naked in front of a man, and Benoit still hadn’t taken anything off past his suit jacket. But as he dipped his head to kiss the inside of her thigh, Marta knew that nothing had changed. She still trusted him.</p><p>“Remember, you say the word, and I’ll stop,” he said, and how <em>dare</em> he be a gentleman even now, when her whole body was aching for him to touch her?</p><p>“What do I say to get you to keep going?” Marta managed, and Benoit chuckled, a rough, gravelly sound that made her tongue dart out to wet her lips.</p><p>“That,” he said, and peeled off her underwear.</p><p>Marta watched breathlessly as he gently lifted her thighs and draped her legs over his broad shoulders. She felt dizzy with equal parts lust and affection as he sat back a little to examine her carefully, as though he was piecing together a clue and not determining the best way to pleasure her. He rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and wet his fingers with his tongue, which was just - <em>god.</em> Just unfair of him. Benoit couldn’t do anything without being fully prepared, after all, and that included her. Her body reacted to that thought accordingly.</p><p>She was already unbearably wet by the time he finally did touch her, lifting a calloused hand to part her folds, stroking and prodding gently to find her clit. Marta couldn’t help the groan that escaped her mouth and the full-body shudder that swept through her when he found it and rubbed a few leisurely circles into it, her head lolling back. It had been so long since someone else had touched her there – especially because her last boyfriend had never been that concerned with finding it.</p><p>“Beautiful,” Benoit said quietly, so quietly that it was half to himself. Then he moved forward and his mouth was on her. Marta gasped at the sudden contact, her thighs tensing up on his shoulders as he ate her out, and of <em>course</em> he was good at this, too. His tongue swiped across her clit, teasingly at first, before it returned with more vigor, two of his fingers working her open slowly until she felt them enter her, pressing inside her and making her moan, a long, drawn out sound. Just like most things, Benoit had figured this out completely – how to drive a woman crazy with just his mouth and his hands. He was excelling, she had to admit.</p><p>His mouth was still lighting her on fire as it worked around her folds, his fingers pumping in and out of her slowly. She was so wet that it was easy for him, could hear the slick sounds of his fingers as they moved. Her hands moved up to grasp his hair and press him closer, desperate for more, for him to push her over the edge.</p><p>“Benoit, please,” she gasped out, and she could feel him smile against her as she rolled her hips forward. Her mind was reeling. The only thing she could think of was him. “Please, please…”</p><p>He heard the implicit plea, and he did as she asked. He always did as she asked. His mouth finally closed over her clit and she let out a low whine, feeling her orgasm approach, rapid and heady. He sucked on it, his fingers working inside her faster now, and Marta gasped as she came in a rush, seeing stars behind her eyelids as her body tensed up and she threw her head back, her hands still fisted in Benoit’s hair. He continued to kiss her all the while, his fingers slipping out of her to stroke her thighs as she came down from her climax, chest heaving and sensations rippling through her body. When she came to her senses again, feeling dazed, she saw him still kneeling, those blue, blue eyes looking up at her with light amusement and something tender that she couldn't quite untangle just now. A languid smile spread across her face as her chest swelled with fondness, and not just because he’d just given her one of the best orgasms of her life.</p><p>“Feeling better?” he asked, a small smile coming to his lips. “Looks like all that tension in your shoulders is gone.”</p><p>Marta nodded, head still spinning as she pulled his face up to kiss him, tasting herself on his mouth. She pulled back and glanced down to see that the bulge in his pants was a lot more pronounced now. Benoit followed the movement of her eyes and shook his head quickly.</p><p>“Oh, no, I don’t require – that is to say – ”</p><p>He was flustered. Marta had never seen him flustered before. She laughed, giddy, and tugged at his tie until he was flush against her, his chest rising and falling quickly.</p><p>“My turn,” she said, and set to work.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Kudos and comments appreciated~</p></blockquote></div></div>
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